A fair trade
by irlus
Summary: In order to save his father's life, Beth Greene trades her life and service to an evil man called himself "The Beast".
1. Chapter 1

_Hello dears! I am really excited to present you the first chapter of a new fanfic I just started. The story is total AU and it is a crossover of two of the most popular and polemic AMC's tv shows: The Walking Dead and Breaking Bad. It is more than nothing a diferent adaptation of a popular tale (you will know it with the time, cause I don't want to give spoilers or any other detail that may reveal something), with its proper variation of events and a different touch. _

_I invite you openly give your opinions and reviews, those are really worthy to me and to my work._

_Keep on reading and I will hope your comments, opinions, suggestions, anything you feel in the need to express. I will see you in a few days with a new chapter of this crossover and a new chapter of "Silvershell Estate" that is now on progress._

_Well, here it its. Enjoy it_

**;D**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**~Home, sweet ol' home~**

They were driving for hours, and Beth was tired of the vibrations of the truck caused by the bumpy roads they were riding by. Her dad had told her about the farm they used to live in long before when she was barely able to talk. She didn't remember that place, and being honest with herself she didn't give a damn either. The only thing she wanted so desperately that moment was to curl herself in Maggie's bedsheets and wait for her to show up and kick her out of her room with a tickle fight. She knew it was never going to happen.

Hershel, along with Maggie and Shawn helped Beth through Annette's death. After two years fighting cancer and having her family by her side, she lost the battle and passed away. It was a hard time for everyone, but mostly for Beth who was the one that stood by her side most of the time. She nursed her mother, took care of her, took her to the chemos, cleaned her when she felt sick, even missed school for almost a year, when the final stage took over her bones. She suffered every day seeing how she was losing her mother , but that also helped her to get used to the idea that she was preparing to take her las train in the sation, and that was just a long and painful goodbye. But the bond she had with Maggie was something different. They were close, more than she wanted to admit. When she heard that call in the middle of the night her world came down in pieces. Maggie and Shawn were coming back from college when summer break started. Her SV was hit by a trailer that lost control after the driver fell asleep. A short call of less than 5 minutes changed her life for ever. Her loved siblings, his brother who showed her how to stand and fight against the bullies in her school, was gone forever; her sister who taught her how to do her hair, how to smile in hard times, how to strive whenever the times were difficult, her loved sister was dead. She hadn't even had the chance to tell them she loved them, to listen their voices one last time. Three warm beacons in her life went off, and now with the winter over them, her heart's never felt so cold before.

The green of the fields turned into golden stains randomly showing up in all of the farms of the county. Some trees had given away their leaves, following the natural course of life, while others refused to lose their vitality and stay perennial for the cold snow and merciless windstorms. Sun was bathing the top of the trees with a golden beam when the truck turned right and entered the old property of Greene. Beth admitted it was a beautiful house, that if she had her family together once again, and just had a break from work and worries to relax and have peaceful walks over the fields, riding a horse or learning how to take care of the animals, enjoying a delicious meal and cleaning the house with Maggie bossing around and playing with whatever thing they were using to clean would have been a better bet than just entering alone with her father inside an old house covered in dust, with a couple of bags of clothes in each hand.

"We're here, Bethy" Said Hershel, a soft smile in his face trying to cheer his daughter up a bit, but she didn't speak to him since early in the morning when he started the truck. Silently, she climbed down the truck and picked her things out from the back of the truck, feeling the distinctive coldness of autum caressing her cheeks.

The air smelled different from what she imagined. It wasn't a fresh country air perfumed with hay scent and the smell of plants and herbs, it was something rotten, like the smell of a match freshly burnt mixed with an open sewer from a restaurant back in the city and cat piss. Even the smell of cow shit and still water from the stables was more pleasant than that.

Hershel shrinked his nose in disgust. "Maybe it's some new factory near the valley" He felt disappointed of such a disgusting welcome. He expected things had never changed since the last time he stepped that house. He wanted his daughter to enjoy a good and peaceful country life, so she could recover from their loss by focusing in a different view from her window and a lighter air than the one in the city. Things were changing fast and saddly admitted to himself that Greene Farm was not the same as he expected to see. What it used to be a majestic house, a red roof with clay tiles all in white wood and navy blue frames around the windows, it was now a grey old structure that had several red tiles mising in the roof, the white paint scalping down like tiny little snow flakes, and in every line bewteen the wooden boards thin black lines of mold formed due to the rain and the lack of protection against humidity. Beth used to suffer from asthma when she was nine, it was more a stress thing and it hadn't showed since then, but they had to keep their cautions now with the mold and dust around the house, and that awful smell poisoning the air.

Hershel twisted the key and the door opened squeaking. He peaked his head inside to see the state of the place before seeing her daughter's disappointment in her face.

"Tomorrow we wipe the dust off. What about if we have dinner, uh?" In fact they needed to wipe off a ton of dust, and move the heavy furniture placed almost near the entrance, and sweep the dry leaves cornered in the ends of the room. His father still with a last resource smile in his face waved her the way in. She shook her head, being aware that her father was struggling with the same issues as she. _how could she be as hash with her as with her father? _ "Yes, daddy, I'm hungry" Answered condescendantly. He put his arm on her back and led her into the house. That could become a good place to live, it just neede some time to transform the ugly into beauty.

Beth always sougth to be like a strong perennial tree, capable enough to endure the hardest of the storms and continue green and alive when Spring melts the snow -just as Maggie was- but now she realized she was just another oak that refused to lose her beautiful leaves with the natural course of life. It was not that bad, for when the winter ends, life will emerge from deep inside her and it will bloom along with the flowers, and that was something she just learned in that moment.

* * *

_Two weeks ago..._

"I told you I am not making any move outside New Mexico, Jesse." Walter's voice low but angry.

"Heyy, this is a sure bet, trust me. Besides I wasn't the one who exploded the headquarters of a mexican cartel leader." Answered Jesse back, impatient.

"If you want to take over other territories be my guest, but don't come to me whining about your problems with dealers or bad guys trying to eliminate you, because this time I am not saving your ass, you hear me?" Somehow Walter knew deep inside that would end being true, and that he would end saving Jesse' ass because he wasn't capable of doing anything as he explicitly ordered.

"Hey yo, these guys know how to get shit done, they used to work with other dudes back in Atlanta..." Jesse's voice ran fluent, excited by the idea of expanding"...listen, they like our product. The market of blue sky candy will get know throughout the Sates. From San Francisco to Florida. Like an epidemy I know this guy in Georgia, they call him "the beast" or something, he will help to produce it and distribute it. And here's the best, he will do it for just 10 percent. I'm pretty damn sure this is a big hit, this guy is like totally crazy, and they say he has just one eye..." without paying attention to what his former chemistry teacher was trying to say he continued speaking.

"Jesse...Jess...Jessee!" He was trying not to scream, cornered in the kitchen, his head between the counter and the wall. "I give you permission to do it, but if you mess it up, I.."

"What? Are you gonna kill me? You need me Mr, White. With this new store in Atlanta, we can make it, we can get, and I've done some math, more than a hundred grands..."

"Come on, Jesse, a hundred grands? Don't make me laugh. That is what I get here, per day" That ammount was to him almost an insult.

"...per hour."

Line went mute for a couple of seconds. Walter shocked. It was a great ammount of money, however he had to take into consideration the distance from that secret place and Albuquerque, and a legal and smart way to move the money.

"How are we going to get the money?"

"I got some contacts, they are doing their magic with the computer and some bank accounts, don't worry 'bout that"

"Ok. uhm..do you know they can assure pureness? 98 percent. No less. If I am distributing my recipe, they have to do it the way I do it."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I know how to do it. I will tell those bitches what to do and everything will be fine."

"Ok." Sighed Walter rubbing his bald head. Somebody entered the kitchen and suddenly changed the topic and his voice tone.

"Oh no, thank you, I like my service, and I have told you I will keep it with this company, I don't want your offers anymore, ok you get it?"

"Your wife again, Mr. White? Gosh, grow some balls or find another place to talk!" Line went off, but Walter kept talking.

"Yes...yes, thank you, bye byee. Can you believe it? it is the third time they call me" He shook his head in disapproval and waved his hands in the air, smiling simpathetically. Skyler only smirked and went back to the porch with Marie and Hank. The smile in the face of Walter erased instantly and his thought shifted to this new business Jesse was about to run in a far place such as Atlanta. He worried about the situation, for life had taught him by trial and error to keep the smallest of trust with someone who is in the business and gives himself a nickname, especially one such as creepy as "The beast."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**~The beast.~**

"_Hey you, beast!_" It was Denny once again, as funny and hideous as always, playing basket ball with his crew of bullies. Daryl tried not to follow his game but it was almost against his natural laws not to punch that bastard in the face and stick his nosebone deep into his brains. He shut his eyes and sighed deep. If he got in troubles one more time, he risked himself to be expelled from the school.

"_I got a present for you._" Denny tossed a dry rose to Daryl's feet and grinned cynically. "_A kiss from your true love will break the spell. Ha! here's your rose, beast. Now you can wait for your true love and die alone!_"

"_Nobody wants you!_"

"_Oh here comes the beast, please don't eat me! hahahahaha!_"

His rough skin that covered his left eye sipped that bitter memory to every empty space inside him. His brain jumped almost twelve years in the future to another dark memory. He was taking a walk, alone and downheaded. Merle had dropped him in a bar and let him pay all his shots till he was uncapable to pronounce his name, even remember it. He had spent almost half his paycheck that night just to save his brother's ass, because the owner and his pals didn't take the loans as a real payment, but took the beatings behind a dark alley as a good way of payback.

He witnessed how a man was arguing with his girlfriend, and how he deliberately punched her in the face and kicked her when she touched the ground almost unconscious. His human part was eclipsed by a wild rush of wrath and miscontrol of his actions. He tackled that son of a bitch against the pavement and smashed his head against it, pulling from his dark straight hair up and down till the street ran small rivers of blood. He had killed for the first time in his life and he felt no regret at all. He turned his head to check on the poor girl that was still panting and shaking in the floor. She panicked when she saw his boyfriend's brains spread in the sidewalk, and when her eyes met Daryl's face she screamed from deep her lungs and stepped back . "_You are a monster!_" she said before putting herself on her feet and run away from the crime scene.

The reason why he replayed those moments in his memory was not a concrete thing to him. Maybe it was to remind himself about how atrocious and cruel human kind could be with a person that looks different from the rest, or just it was to keep the wound open and be one with the suffer and anger. It made him think that if his condition were something natural, like born with it, maybe it would have helped him to endure the issue of being watched and pointed, and take the "love yourself as you are" bullshit for granted and just don't give a damn. He tried not to give a single damn to his past, in fact he fougth every day to leave it behind, leave his fears of being abused and bullied, of being insulted and discriminated, being rejected by girls and feared by the kids in the street, leave all of that cruel reality way behind the road. Plenty of times he tried to wash his pain with alcohol, but only made it worse. Violence had led him to so many dead ends piled in the darkest room of his mind to never see the light of the day. He had no one to be himself with, no one to lean on, no one to trust in. He was all by his won in this merciless world. He was running out of solutions. His soul was already damned, and sure he had a front row seat in hell special for him for all the things he was dragged to do.

"Hey, you, lil' princess get your ass up here and help me with the candy!" Merle yelled from inside. The last badge of blue sky was ready and they needed to pack it and have it ready to transport it in a construction truck. Each monday Ben the driver arrived to the old shack and made the exchange at 5 in the morning ,and they were running late. Daryl threw his half smoked cigarrette blowing out the last pull of smoke in the air of the night and got inside. It wasn't a small house though, but the equipment installed all around the living room, tubes and chemistry supplies made the place look like a broom closet.

The weekly production equaled to almost two hundred pounds, same one that needed to be packed in small bags of one pound, so they could be easily hid inside the truck. One by one they ordered them and had them ready at 4:50 a.m., and both Dixon brothers decided it was a good time for a smoke.

"The Boss wants me in the city. I have to arrage some shit," Merle broke the silence. "and I won't be here in some time, so I hope you can handle this with just one eye, lil' brother."

Daryl turned his head towards his brother, pissed by the comment. "I can do it" His voice sounded husky by the smoke, almost in a growl. His frown creepily drawn together by his deformed face.

"Ok, ok, I trust you lil' princess." Merle's hands open in front of him as a sign of peace. "I tell you cause our boss may come one day to check the pureness of the product, and if its pure enough, we get more money, you understand? More pure, more money; less pure, less money." Daryl kept his look in front and nodded his head.

"Good boy" Merle pet his head and went back inside.

"Who is this guy wer're working for, by the way?" Asked Daryl, his deformed brow lift awkwardly.

" Dunno, Heimerschmith, Heisenshit...I'm not sure." Merle shrugged his shoulders, "He's from Texas, I think. He's the man, you know, they say they have the purest crystal you'll ever taste. But he's not coming. He sent Mr. Pinkman, and he's the one we should care about, cause he 's the one that comes and checks us anytime soon, and if we don't hurry up he won't doubt to kill us. I've heard is a tough bitch." There was a truck outside the house. It was Ben parking outside. Together they moved the product and put the two hundred single bags of meth inside a secret room below the truck. A quick and smart operation. Before sunrise they had finished the move, Merle climbed to the passenger seat inside the cabin of the truck, his head out of the window.

"Well I have to go, lil' brother, don't to any stupid like burning the business or play with the machines" Merle mocked "Or I have to punish you the way papa did, ok? and I don't wanna deal with a blind motherfucker on my back, understand?" He pulled a husky laugh and got lost in the woods.

The sound of the engine roared aloud and hid the swearings of Daryl. Once again, his lovely brother dumped him with all the heavy work. He hated doing this, but they needed the money, even when he saw the instruments placed in the corner of the room and felt his guts twisted, especially with that brown bottle placed in the shelf that contained the same acid that melted his skin and took his left eye sight.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello, dear readers. One more chapter of this fic. I understand if you feel something is missing.**_

_**It's a time of mental blocakge, you know what is that, (horrible)**_

_**But hope you like this chapter.**_

**_Keep on your reviews, comments, anything about the fic, story, style, words. Any comment is very useful to clean my mistakes and present you a better work._**

**_I really appreciate your attention and dedication to this story._**

**_I promise I will have more updates oftenly, but for now, enjoy it_**

**;D**

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**Chapter 3**

**~The source~**

Two weeks had passed since they arrived to the farm and two things were clear for them: the dust and the sewer stink would never go away. Even after that amount of time they were not used to the smell yet. Beth stopped sneezing because of the dust, but her lovely morning sun filtrating through her window were ruined by the stink outside, and she kept shrinking her nose at the disgusting smell every day.

"uughh, God, I'll have to boil some cinnamon and clove to hide the stink." She said waving the spatula, preparing scrambled eggs.

"Let me do it sweetheart, your going to ruin your uniform" Hershel took the pan and the spatual from Beth's hands. She smirked at him. "Thanks, daddy" She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and grabbed a toast from the table.

"Excited about your first day?"

"Yes, daddy. I know it's going to be a bit different this time, I mean, back at the city I knew the hospital, the doctors, but I feel this is going to be a gret day." She didn't tell her father, but right in that moment she missed Maggie and Shawn, and Annette so bad her heart ached inside her chest and made the toast bite stuck in the middle of her throat. She remembered her very first say as a volunteer nurse back at her previous home. Annette and Maggie woke up before her and both helped her to be ready. Maggie prepared the same breakfast she was taking at that moment: scrambled eggs, fresh hot coffe, toasted bread and blueberry jelly; and Annette ironed her uniform and cleaned her white shoes. It made her feel good, peaceful, keeping a thin ballance between nostalgia and sorrow. She shoved the bad thought away and kept on the conversation.

"And what have you planned for today?" Asked Beth, taking a sip from her mug of hot coffee.

"Mr. Branson's son wants me to go back to his farm. He said no one has worked the same as I did when I used to be his father's vet." He served half the scrambled eggs to his plate and the other half to the plate of his daughter. "and even more now than several sheeps got sick."

"Oww" Beth whined at the comment. She was an animal person, eventhough she never had any pets. Dogs, cats, birds, the squirrels she saw now that she moved to the farm. Even insects, especially ladybugs. She loved ladybugs.

"Don't worry, Bethy, I'm going to take care of those sheeps, personally. That's my job, remember." He glared at her behind his mug of coffee. He checked his watch on his pocket. 7:41 a.m.

"Dear Lord! Finish that and hurry up, or you're going to be late."

Beth gulped the last of her coffee and grabbed her bag from the hooks in the entrance.

By the road the tree branches of the woods looked almost empty of leaves, the ground covered in a reddish carpet of dry leaves as the air turned colder every day.

It didn't look the same without their leaves, they looked exposed, transparent, nothing to hide, proud to show as they were for when the spring comes again, life would emerge one more time.

8:35, half an hour earlier than yesterday. Beth climbed down from the truck, still rushing to arrive on time as she wiped the wrinkles from her white skirt.

"You forget something, Bethy." Said Hershel from inside the tile blue truck. Beth's eyes rolled as she smiled and rounded the truck to plant a quick kiss on Hershel's cheek. "Have a great day, sweetie. Call me when you're done, ok?"

"Sure, daddy, have a good day too. Save those sheeps." She called in a worry, walking backwards facing her father's kind expression.

He pulled and drove to the pet store to get some preventive vaccines and medical supplies he would need during the day. Back to the road, towards Branson's farm, Hershel thought the main reason for those animals being sick came from the smell of whatever new factory or new facilities opened near the valley. If they were throwing away chemical waste to the river, it would be likely to have sick sheeps, cows, horses, every single animal in the region that drinks water from the river down the hills. He felt bad about these issues, as a farmer he understood perfectly the stress of struggling with drought and withered cropps or having an ill cow or horse, however it meant a somewho positive thing to him: he had plenty of work to do a a vet.

Branson's farm was five minutes by car from Hershel's. Branson's house was bigger than Hershel's but his grounds covered less area than the ones from Hershel. A small piece of land enough to plant for his own and two sheds for sheeps and cows respectively. An average man came out of the house in his denim overalls. His face round and red from the harsh burning sun over his skin, curled brown hair and small plumpy hands, tanned by the hard work. Hershel stopped the truck and climbed down, greeting the man in front of him with a big smile.

"Oh My Lord! Mr. Greene!" The short man exclaimed in joy.

"I saw you coming outta the house, Dany, and I thought for just one second you were your father, may he rest in peace."

"Yes, everybody says that." He answered shaking hands with Hershel. "My father trusted you since the moment you two met. I remember I was just a kid and you helped Lynda to give birth. Now we have the calf of the calf of Lynda providing us milk."

"Yeah, I remember that. you had the same height but I see you grew from other parts" Hershel mocked shaking Dany's beer belly. Dany jerked Hershel's hand and both of them laughed at the good memories they had about that farm and Mr. Branson Father.

"Well, tell me what am I here." called Hershel, talking seriously.

"Oh, come here, lemme show you." Dany waved his hand indicating the path towards the shed. "I took these ladies to pasture but I noticed that Julie didn't eat. She's been a lil' bit sad since a couple of days and I'm scared she might have something."

Hershel entered the shed and knelt in front of the sheep. Without taking care of the dirt and waste he was knelt on, he cheked her eyes and mouth. He also touched her belly and even checked the feces. With a stetoscope he heard the heart and lungs, his frown shrugged in concentration.

"It's pneumonia, Dany, fortunately we're on time." Hershel said, going out of the shed and cleaning the dirt from his knees. "I have a preventive medicine here with me, but tomorrow I'll have to come back and give you the rest of the prescription."

"Ok. How...how much?" Dany asked timidly, scratching his bald forehead

Hershel lauged silently. "Don't worry 'bout that. I'll tell you tomorrow once I have the rest of the medicine. For now I want you to help me with her. You're going to apply her the medicine and I have to ask you to set her aside from the rest, for precaution."

Dany entered and held the small sheep in his arms. Julie was scared and tried to run away, her legs jerking off as if jumping freely around the valley.

"Hold her, Dany!"

Hershel pulled out the syringe, placing it carefully near Julie's leg. "See, Dany? right here, between the back and the leg." Hershel indicated with his fingers the exact place where to apply an inyection, but before Dany could grab the syringe and pinch the skin of the animal, she jerked freely from Dany's arms and ran directly into the woods.

"Jesus" Exclaimed Dany, both men staring to the sheep easing her way through the bushes.

Hershel didn't hesitate and chased the animal, trying to catch his breath from time to time and not losing her from his sight.

"Be rigth back, Dany, just hold on!" Hershel yelled from the woods, panting, suddenly feeling the discrete weight of the years over his back. That little sheep gave him a hard time chasing her all across the valley. She stopped from time to time but as right she saw Hershel coming close she started her run again. And the same happened for hours, crossing several miles into the different grounds of other farms untill the sheep got stuck in the wired fence of an old shack hidden among the trees.

His sense of allert grew more at the distinctive smell of sewer and cat piss detected in his nose. That place that seemed like a ghost house that popped from nowhere was the source of that stink and probably the reason why he was chasing Julie through all the counties in Georgia. He crossed the same wired fence where Julie was stuck, and once he set her free he approaching to the windows and sneak a glance to see what was the origins of the smell. Tubes, pipes, chemistry supplies, testing tubes, an industrial dryer. It all made sense.

He turned back and headed to the farm, but then a double canion shotgun barrel scratched the tip of his nose.

"sneakin' inside private property, uh?" Daryl said, pinning his feral gaze on the intruder inside his territory.

Hershel didn't know what was scarier, having a shotgun in front of his face or Daryl's monstruous blind eye scanning him.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Here I am, once again (not torn into pieced, though...)**_

_**You may know if I take more time is beacuse I want to scrub any imperfection from the text and leave it good for you.**_

_**This chapter goes into a big change of events. Beth finally meets 'the Beast' and the results are not the expected ones...**_

_**I want to thank you for taking the time to read and give me your opinions.**_

**_I'll be checking on them so don't be shy. Let me know what you think. That helps me a lot to develop a better story and improve on my writting and style._**

**_My tumblr: irlus_**

**_I have a couple of prompts and one-shot's and a small fic called "Destiny finds its way". AU, Daryl works as a civil engineer, guess who's married with..._**

**_Anyways. _**

**_Here is a new chapter. Enjoy it_**

**;D**

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**Chapter 4**

**~dead end~**

Sun had set under the horizon line, painting everything in dark blue shadows. Daryl paced back and forth, trying to shut his thoughts of getting rid of the old man at the shack. He was a witness, he couldn't let him go just like that. But he couldn't just kill him and throw him in a ditch.

Hershel shouted unintelligibly things through the rag in his mouth, but that only made Daryl angrier and less patient. He dragged Hershel from the ties in his hands and put him inside a dark room, shutting the door as if the old man could vanish once he opened the door again.

He knew what he had to do. It was for the best. He knew himself perfectly, and was conscious of many atrocious things he's done in his myserable life but one of them and certainly the ony thing he would never do is cold blood kill. He did what he had to do that night when he saved that girl from his abusive boyfriend, but only because his basic instincts acted before his mind. It was wrong, and he had to stand against it. But the situation he was facing right now went totally against his principles. That old farmer was curiousing around, never meant to harm him or trace him to give him troubles. He might have a family to live for, and they would be probably worried about him.

His phone vibrated inside his pocket. Private number.

"Yeah?"

"Hey yo, it's me."

"The hell are ya?" Daryl answered in a pissed tone. Jesse raised his voice too.

"your boss, bitch. How's the business goin'?"

"we've got a problem. Sneaker. He saw everythin'." Daryl walked away from the door where Hershel was locked in. He didn't want him to hear.

"Specify 'everything'..."

"Everything. The equipment, the chemicals...the candy."

"Well, yo'lready know what to do."

Daryl grunted, aticipating the answer he didn't want.

"Don't be a pussy and handle it. I want him gone in an hour."

Line went dead and he put his phone back into his pocket. He hated his life. Since he was able to remember he had always been the one doing the hard stuff: distracting his father so Merle could grab some cigarrettes, teasing the bullies from school so he could save his brother's ass, shoving away angry dudes Merle owed them money. Either way, he was the only one handling other one's shit, and this case was not that different from the rest.

He walked to the cupboard dragging his feet and tok his shotgun from the top of the counter. There was no other way. If he let him go, he would probably talk more than allowed and he risked himself and Merle on going back to prison, not mentioning he would end up dead sooner or later at the hands of someone sent directly from his boss. He knew pretty enough about the subject.

He sat in the floor leaning his back against the wall, trying to gather enough courage to point the shotgun to the stranger's head and pull the trigger.

"Knock it off, Dixon. Stop being a sissy." He grunted to himself.

He stood up and opened the door casting his shadow over Hershel's body. Both men knew what was going to happen. Suddenly a light flashed from outside. Someone knocked at the door. Hershel froze, his eyes wide in terror trying to focus in the darkness on the person outside, as Daryl moved to the entrance, placing himself behind the door.

Whoever dared to cross the door, would get killed too.

. . .

Beth fell on a chair in the waiting room, her legs given into exhaustion. A scholar buss crashed against a truck in the morning and several kids were damaged, fortunately none of them got killed, but the majority reuslted with open wounds and broken bones. Beth couldn't be happier of working with kids. Eventhough she graduated from medical chemistry back in Atlanta, she had a special connection with children, and the doctors started to notice it. Dr. Riggs asked Beth to not step out of the pediatric area, since she was the only one who could controll kids and soothe them when they had to go to surgery, or she needed to pinch them with needles or give them disgusting medicines. She became popular in just a couple of days volunteering there. She wanted to be there once she finished her studies and became both analyst and nurse. I could be a good new start for her. Being busy was a good therapy.

She dropped the pen from the lobby book where she cheked out at five p.m. and took her bag from the locker. She stashed her white uniform, careully folded inside the bag when her phone rang. It should be her dad. His nerves shook her when she didn't recognize the number in the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hello, are you Miss Beth Greene? Hershel Greene's daughter?" It was the voice of a man, worry detected through the line.

"Who am I speaking to?" Replied Beth, trying to stay calmed. Something was wrong and she could notice it. Even smell it.

"Good afternoon, miss, I am Daniel Branson Son."

"Oh, yes, you're the sheep guy, right?"

"Uh, yes...yes I am. Is...is your father with you?"

"No, I mean he's supposed to come and pick me, he wouldn't take much."

"I tried to call him but he left his cellphone here. He came this morning, one of the sheeps escaped and he ran after it, and...well, he hasn't come yet."

"What?"

"Can you come here?"

"Yes, but I am at the hospital, right now."

"Ok, then wait for my wife to pick you up."

. . .

Beth didn't talk to the woman driving, though she seemed a good person, someone you could talk till the sun comes up but that was not the time nor the place. Wished she would have met her in another situation... She knew her father, he knew well those lands like the back of his hand. He couldn't just disappear or get lost. It had to happen something, though she didn't want to think of it. Beth jumped from the truck, still in motion before stop completely in front of Branson's house. He explained her to the exact direction where to go and quickly climbed again to the truck with a pair of flashlights. His wife stayed in the house in case Hershel came back.

The truck moved forward for a couple of minutes between the fields before it stopped with a growling sound inside the engine.

"Come on!" yelled Dany, fisting his hands on the stirring wheel.

The sun was about to set and the darkness of the nigth aproached them fast. Beth started to hyperventilate, her hands twisting the strap of her leather bag. She was running out of air.

"Shhh, easy, miss, we're going to find your father. Jus...lemme..."

He popped up the hood of the truck and climbed down to check.

"Jesus. the fan broke. Engine's over heated."

Beth shook her fear and grabbed the flashlight. She cleared her throat, breaking the sensation of choking with her own breath.

"Mr. Branson, I'll take a round here, see if I can find my dad's steps."

"don't go too far, I'll see if I can fix this and catch you up."

Mr. Branson took his tools and started to work on the cooler fan, while Beth walked in a straight line trying to track Hershel's steps. It was impossible. Wherever she pointed to, every inch of the ground was covered in dry weeds and grass. She felt her throat close again, hearing her lungs squeak in every breath she took. She closed her eyes, shoving her tension away as she recovered her breath. She kept walking in a straight line, focused on just one thing: find her dad.

Few days after Annette's death Hershel had a heart attack. Everybody blamed his sorrow but the doctor said it had to do with the state of his arteries. He was a strong man, but if he had a situation out of his own control of the emotions, could result in a bad outcome.

"Everything's ok, Hershel. If you want to avoid another sudden attack like this one, you have to take care of what you eat, and avoid handling stressing situations or heavy work." The voice of the doctor bounced against the inner walls of her skull.

If the sheep escaped he had to run after it. What if he suffered another attack? what if she found him dead and cold in some point of that place, lying in the ground because he could not get any help? Alone, in the middle of the nowhere.

Her lashes soaked in her salty tears rolling down her cheeks. She had to be strong. She had to find him.

Beth kept walking, venturing herself in the woods ahead as she left Mr. Branson behind. Her flashlight cut the darkness of the surrounds like a sword . Nothing seemed to have an order. Whenever she tried to follow a path, this one diverged into others that disappeared in the roots of the trees. Small twiggs and dry leaves covered the ground almost entirely and still no signs of her father.

Her heart flinched inside her chest when she saw the sheep Hershel was chasing after dead in the ground. Her throat screaked, she was having a hard time to take a deep breath. How could she fight a grotesque scene of broken bones or open wounds flooding in blood at the hospital without any problem, and have an asthma attack by seeing a dead animal? Somehow she felt stupid and snapped her head to the other side.

She swished her hand and her eyes caught the reflection of her light in a piece of glass a few yards ahead. It was a window, the window of an old shack. She sighed in relief, whoever lived in that place should know something about her father. She quicked her pace and crossed the wired fence, careful to not scratch her skin. She reached the door and knocked. Nobody answered. She peaked a glance but could see nothing through the dirt covered glass. She moved to the clearest window and flashed the ligth through the glass. Her father was there, tied from the hands and feet, and a rag in his mouth. Beth covered her mouth, killing a loud scream. _What kind of monster could have done that to an innocent man?_

She pushed the door open and threw the light not caring of where it landed. She kneeled in front of Hershel as she removed the rag from his mouth and started to untie his hands when a hand pulled her from behind and threw her to the opposite end of the room, sending her bag far away from her reach. She screamed and crawled back to the wall, looking for something she could use as a weapon. She grabbed what apparently was a rusty pipe in her hands and held it defiantly.

"Whoever is there, I just want my father back I don't want to..."

She heard a noise in the darkness. A shotgun loading.

"...I...he..." she was running out of air. She had an inhalator just in case her asthma would kick back in, but it was in her bag at the other end of the room. She wasn't able to look for it the middle of the dark, and didn't dare to do it. Not with a crazy gun loaded man.

"you leave her alone, this is not with her. It's with me. I saw everything."

Hershel huffed and screamed, pulling his hands to see if he could free them but the ties were strongly bound.

"See that, ol' man? Now I have to kill your kid too!" Her husky voice thrilled her, causing goosebumps in her skin.

"Who are you? why... you..." She heard his heavy steps approaching her, a hand in the neck of her jacket pulled her and slammed her against the wall. Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt the pressure of the shotgun against her collarbone.

"Pl..please don't!" She shrieked, panic streaming inside her veins.

"I'll give you a chance, kid. Ya haven't seen anything, ya haven't seen me. Go away and we leave this here. Don't wanna spill more blood."

Beth's breathing became shorter with every one of her violent heartbeats. The now dim light from the flashlight int he corner of the room gave her a poor sight of her attacker. Only the right side of his face. She turned to her father, he was sat on the floor, trying to roll on his side to see his daughter.

"I'll leave with him."

"No way."

"He suffers from his heart. He's in a delicate state. Please."

"Beth, sweetheart, leave me here" Hersheld cried in tears. "I am old, my life's done. You are young you have a lifetime ahead."

She sniffed the air in the environment. It rang a bell to her.

"...you." She exclaimed in realization. "You are the one of that awful smell!" She gave a quick glance to what she could see in the darknes, the light casting over a small bag of blue cristals under the table.

"That's the thing in the news, the blue sky candie...you cook meth!"

"Smartass...now If I may..." He put his finger in the trigger an grazed it _Why the hell se doesn't leave?_

"Are you on your own, right? Nobody else?" She asked defiantly. Hershel shook his head, his brows together in anguish and desperation. What was she exactly trying to do?

"ain't your business, kid." He growled, pushing the shotgun barrel deeper in her throat.

"Bethy, go, run away from here."

She shut her thoughts off, as she used to do when she had to assist someone in critical condition in the ER. She came up with a plan, the only one that assured her father would be safe and she would keep her alive.

"I'll stay in his place."

"What?" Both men cried at the same time. He didn't expect her to do such a thing for her father, as her father didn't expect she would come up with that crazy idea. A terrible idea. He could be a sick person, a violent vicious monster who wouldn't doubt a second to lay a hand on her or worse... Sacrifice herself? A young tallented woman, for an old man who had no one else except for her? First dead, before he'd let it happen.

"Don't need ya here."

"You do." She continued, fighting to keep her nerves under the line. "I know some basics of chemistry. I can help you produce a bit more, you get an extra money. If you let me go I could talk, and everything ends for you"

"Not if I kill you first."

"You won't." She sounded daring this time. _What the fuck am I exactly doing?_ "If you wanted to do it, we would be dead five minutes ago."

Daryl grunted. He wanted to crush his fist against her face. No one dared to call him a coward. He could be anything but a coward. He fliped the table next to her sending the stuffs on it flying away.

"You are not killing him. Then I'll stay with you. I won't go anywhere, I swear. I help you, you let my father live. Everybody wins." She smirked nervously, both hands up against the wall.

His right eye scanned her, catching half of her face. He could see a blond hair knot and white skin glowing in the dim light. She was a pretty one.

"How can I trust you?" His hands sweating arounf the grip of the shotgun.

"Because I am right here willing to die in my father's place." Her answer was steady and firm, she was sure of what she just said. "Let him go, please, let him live."

Daryl released the pressure of the shotgun against her, but still pointing at them. He grabbed the flashlight from the floor and pointed directly to her eyes. She covered her face as her eyes went blind momentaneously. She tried to catch a better look on his face with her eyes half opened. Daryl felt something sting in his guts. Not only she was pretty. She was beautiful. How could he do something like this to her? forcing her to stay with a monster in her father's place. That was the kind of love he never had in his life and that made him feel an outcast. Guilt boiled in his guts, turning quickly into a sick wrath that kept him straigh lined.

He came close to her. She now could see his face: a singular pair of eyes glowed behind the light, one of them white cyan and the other dark as the night outside. The white reflect of her own skin lighted his whole face. She flinched and pushed against the wall. The skin of his left side had been melted, probably with fire or something else, the soft lines traced all along the closed wound with bumped red lumps like a fake wound proper of a cheap halloween costume.

"Stay away from her!" Hershel yelled from the floor, still fighting to loose the ties from his hands.

He gave her a glance from up and down, his husky voice rumbling from his throat. "fair trade."

He grabbed her from the wrists and dragged her across the floor. He threw her slender frame into the same room her father was captive. She expected the worst. She wouldn't make it till the morning, probably end up in a ditch or buried in the middle of nowhere. She stared in horror as the man with the shotgun took his father outside, stabbing him witht the tip of the weapon. A truck engine roared in the middle of the night and sped up, echoing for ever in her mind.

Panic and rush came to her from a bucket above her head. This time her throat closed almost completely, feeling a silent knot pulling her walls tighter and her pulse beating under the skin of her face. Thick tears fell from her eyes that grew puffy and red due to the lack of oxygen. She gripped her hands in the corner of an old mattress, tearing the ragged blankets, her teeth grinded as she tried to pull a deep breath. Her head buzzed from inside and her vision began to blurr. She was about to pass out. If she hadn't her inhalator soon, that would be it for her.

. . .

"If something happens to her, I will go to th..."

Daryl slapped Hershel hard in the face, making him fall to the ground.

"Now, this is the deal. I keep her, you keep your mouth shut." Daryl jerked his hand with the shotgun over Hershel's chest. "If you spit out a single word to the cops, I will slice her throat and throw her right in front of your lovely farm, understand, old man?

Hershel nodded and pushed himself to stand up from the side of the road and run straight. Praying to his Lord in Heaven to watch for her only daughter, as he prayed he could make it to home in one piece. He was a man of right, always worried to do what is correct, and reproach what is not. But this time he had to do his best to cover the truth in order to keep her alive.

After a walk that seemed endless he made it to the farm. With steady walks he reached the front door and went inside. He closed the door and slid himself down to the floor against the door. He passed his hands through the white hair and hid his face between his knees. He had lost his wife, his son and daughter next. He couldn't lose Beth. The kindest heart after his wife. Not her.


End file.
